


As You Wish

by TwilightMaster15



Series: Death Note Children Movie AUs [3]
Category: Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alive L (Death Note), Alternate Universe - Princess Bride Fusion, Inspired by Princess Bride, M/M, One-Sided Amane Misa/Yagami Light, Poison
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:13:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23681383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwilightMaster15/pseuds/TwilightMaster15
Summary: Five years ago, Light Yagami—the most beautiful person in the world—found his true love in the form of the detective, L. However, upon regaining his memories as Kira, Light realized he had no choice but to kill his lover. But with the pain of this loss which he quickly regrets, Light vows to never love again.In the present day and kidnapped by the mafia as a hostage in exchange for the task force's Death Note, Light discovers that L has been alive this whole time. The two work together to handle the mess that has been made, and heal, but find their damaged love is even further threatened by Light's forced engagement to Misa, who has vowed she will do anything to "save" Light.
Relationships: L/Yagami Light
Series: Death Note Children Movie AUs [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1629913
Comments: 18
Kudos: 70





	1. Chapter 1

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. It does not come "one-size-fits-all." There is a certain truth that bone symmetry comes into play—it signifies good health and breeding prospects. That's evolution for you. But the rest of it, nose shape, breast size, eye color, is all so subjective. What we find beautiful is informed by cultural preferences and swayed by images in the media. And humankind found themselves obsessed with finding out who is the most beautiful person in the world at any given time.

In the eighteen years of Light Yagami's life, that title changed roughly three times, usually due to some unforeseen circumstance befalling that person. Light, of course, knew none of this. If he had, would have found it unfathomable. How could someone care if they were the most beautiful person in the world or not? What difference could it have made if you were only the third most beautiful? Or the sixth or even twentieth?

But as time went on, it became clear, even from only the potential at a very young age, that Light was the one about to take this title.

Not long before his sixteenth birthday, Light realized it had now been more than a month since any guy had spoken to him. He had never much been close to anyone, even his own family, who valued his brains and his grades over who he was as a person, so the change was nothing typically noteworthy, but at least before there were head nods exchanged when he walked by. But now, for no reason, there was nothing. A glance away as he approached, that was all. 

Light cornered Yamamoto one day after school and asked about the silence. 

"I should think, after what you've done, you'd have the courtesy not to pretend to ask," Was the bitter response to come from Yamamoto. 

"And what have I done?" Light asked, already feeling isolated and wanting to know what he had done wrong, "What?"

"You've stolen them." With that, Yamamoto fled, but Light understood. He knew who "them" was.

The girls.

Those featherbrained, annoying, sapheaded, dim-witted girls.

How could anybody accuse him of stealing them? Why would anybody want them anyway? All they did was pester and vex and annoy. 

"Can carry your books, Light?" 

"Thank you, but I can do it myself." 

"Can I go walking with you, Light?" 

"Thank you, but I do enjoy myself alone." 

"You think you're too good for anybody, don't you, Light?" 

"No, no, I don't. I like time to myself, that's all."

But throughout his sixteenth year, this kind of talk gave way to stammering and flushing and, at the very best, questions about the weather. 

"Do you think it's going to rain, Light?" 

"I don't think so—the sky is blue." 

"Well, it might rain." 

"Yes, I suppose it might." 

"You think you're too good for anybody, don't you, Light?" 

"No, I just don't think it's going to rain, that's all."

At night, more often than not, they would congregate in the dark beyond his window and try to stare at him. He ignored them. Usually, the laughter would give way to insult. He paid them no mind. If they grew too damaging, his father handled things, emerging silently from the house and bringing them to the station. Light never failed to thank him when he did this. 

When he was seventeen, people would come to the house either to chat with his mother or work with his father, or play with his sister, but people were always making excuses to stare at Light. By this time, Light had well and truly gained the title of the most beautiful person in the world and added onto his brilliant and unmatched mind, everyone considered him to be perfect.

But what they didn't know was that this was sparking a depression within the young man, unloved by his parents if he wasn't perfect, and everybody seemed to forget he was human too. So he was immensely bored and depressed, which frequently made his mind wander on what was the point of his existence.

Then he found the Death Note, and suddenly, his life had meaning. He was going to make the world a better place! Nobody saw him as a human being with feelings anyway, so he might as well be a God.

But then he met L, who was his equal and saw him as a person. He needed L gone, but he had to admit the change was refreshing. Admittedly, being confined and psychologically tormented after losing his memories of the notebook was less than pleasant. Still, nevertheless, he found himself caring genuinely for that eccentric man with a serious sweet tooth. He observed every quirk and mannerism of the man questioningly, letting it distract him as Misa screeched in his ear. At this point in his life, he knew why she pursued him so—the same way Gaston was attracted to Belle, there was no way Misa loved him in any way other than lust and wanting to rub it in the face of other girls that she had the most beautiful person in the world as her boyfriend. 

L shooed her away, and Light relaxed, "Thank you, Ryuzaki, I wasn't sure how much longer I could handle her." Ryuzaki smiled slightly, nodding his head,

"As you wish."

As you wish, something L often said if Light was thanking him or asking him to do anything. His tone said it was almost as a joke, not acting like a servant and still bantering with him like a true friend.

When he had asked Matsuda about this when L was in the bathroom, and Matsuda was keeping an eye on Light, the slightly older officer started laughing hysterically.

"Wow, for someone so smart, you are blind!" Matsuda had replied. "Just think about it for a bit." Then L came back, and Light spent the rest of the day thinking about what it could mean, and he spent even more time analyzing L until it finally dawned upon him.

Around 2am, he found himself unable to sleep, and he turned to L, "Ryuzaki, tell me you love me."

L paused from where he was working on the computer, and he turned to face Light with a small smile, and Light got a good look at those eyes like the sea before a storm, but who cared about eyes?

"As you wish."

Light's eyes widened.

As you wish... what he meant was, "I love you."

And Light knew without a doubt, mere moments later that he really truly loved him back.

Those couple weeks before capturing Higuchi were the best of Light's life, finally finding someone who loved him for who he was. For fear of what his father would think of him and that subconscious fear of Misa finding out, Light did hide his relationship with L—and L respected that.

As they walked to the helicopter, Light smiled, feeling such joy with L. "Hey, Ryuzaki... let's not change anything after we capture Kira. I want to stay with you. Maybe I'm getting a little ahead of myself," he looked at the floor, "I want to help you with cases. You make me actually feel like a human, and nobody else does that."

L's expression changed to something soft and sweet, but his smile seemed incredibly sad as he walked over to Light, brushing a strand of hair out of Light's face.

"I would like that very much, Light-Kun."

They fell into each other's arms. 

There have been five great kisses in the world. The precise rating of kisses is a terribly difficult thing, often leading to great controversy because although everyone agrees with the formula of affection times purity times intensity times duration, no one has ever been satisfied with how much weight each element should receive. But on any system, there are five that everyone agrees deserve full marks. 

Well, this one left them all behind. 

And for that one moment, the two had hopes of a bright future together, and maybe they one day could be open about their feelings. But there was something L knew that Light didn't, a prayer whispered by a detective begging to whoever would listen for him to not lose this young man he had grown to cherish in the months they had known each other.

But the world was a dark and cruel place, and Light then regained his memories, and his cold and unfeeling personality returned.

OoOoO

All of those memories of his entire life had reminded themselves of his presence the moment he had felt the precise moment L stopped trying to fight for his life against the Death Note. There was no crying or begging or even much visible struggle. He was still save for the hand he was gripping onto Light with and his eyes wide with a look of what may very well have been betrayal. All of that was present for only a few moment before acceptance had appeared to be reached as the struggle left his now doll-like body and his eyes slowly closed.

Whether it was the realization that L wasn't going to wake up, or the memories of what the detective had meant to him, that sobered Light up from any smugness and joy at his victory, he had been up upon regaining his memories, he didn't know nor would he ever honestly care. The smirk fell from his face, and he felt as though for a moment, he was falling into an endless void as he realized something that only now he realized was something that a week ago without his memories, he had seen as unimaginable:

L was dead. No matter what synonym he used to try to lessen the blow in his mind, that didn't change the cold truth that part of him just admitted in an attempt to rip the bandaid off fast so he could get on with his life.

But that wasn't as easy as expected, and Light screamed, discovering that every rampaging emotion within, be it despair or simple dumbstruck confusion, was not a lie at all, no matter how much he wanted it to be. It was ugly and raw, almost like an animal, practically tearing at his throat to get out, but he couldn't stop himself either.

He still shook the unresponsive body with stubborn desperation, and it wasn't an act as he swore for a moment that he could still feel L's extremely weak but still present breath as he bent down closer to listen for a heartbeat—but he later brushed this off as a fool's hope or perhaps L wasn't fully dead yet, but would be very soon. He had come this far from studying the Death Note and finding countless loopholes, so if there was a way to cheat death by the notebook, he would have discovered it by now unless there was something Ryuk had yet to tell him.

He barely noticed the rest of the task force asking what was wrong or panicking at the idea they were going to be next if Kira had been to blame for the attack. L was really gone, and as Light held no fear for his own life, he was fully consumed by that dreadful realization that had knocked the wind out of him, leaving his entire body mercilessly trembling and trying to get some air in.

Light had needed him dead if Kira was to reign over the new world. There was no doubt of it. There must be relief somewhere in him because, without L, nobody would dare suspect him.

But he did not know or care about it right now as he knelt there, L, the first one he had ever loved and the only one who had loved him back, dead in his arms. It just seemed surreal and unacceptable, the idea that L wasn't going to open his eyes; and so as soon as he was able to get some air into his lungs, he shook him, murmuring to him,

"Ryuzaki! Come on, get up, get up… Wake up, open your eyes, come on, Ryuzaki…" his soft mumbling was close to a scream at this point as he shook the detective. Surely if he was asleep he would have been awoken by being shaken to the point that his now unsupported head was bobbing up and down with each harsh movement.

And yet, L only lay still.

Light's breath hitched as he felt tears spilling down his cheeks and he clung to L as though he was the last good thing on Earth and for a moment, he wasn't Kira anymore, not really anyway. He was just a kid who found someone who loved him only to have his wants and needs clash in such a brutal way.

"Light…" His father came out, careful to alert his son to his presence before reaching down towards his shoulder in an attempt to comfort him, but when Light only replied with holding L to him tighter still, and flinching away from anyone's touch, his father withdrew his hand, unsure of what to say to comfort him. 

"We should get an ambulance," Mogi offered shakily.

"I'll go with him," Light heard his Dad offer wearily before anyone could even think about Watari, or more specifically, Light knew his father's intent was for _him specifically_ to not think about Watari. He could feel his father's worried stare, but he didn't care at all as he clutched L's wrist and then moved to the neck, feeling desperate for even the slightest breath of a pulse, but his hands were trembling so much that he had no way of knowing one way or another if there was one or not.

Not that he was surprised by this. He'd counted on L dying, that was the whole point of having Misa start killing again and manipulating Rem, and it would actually be more shocking if there was a pulse.

He hadn't counted on how much losing L would hurt.

It wasn't as easy as he had thought it would be. So overridden with his sudden memory regain and gleefully smug about how smoothly his plans which in hindsight really should have failed had gone, Light had not realized that he still loved L, and now it was too late and there was nothing anybody could do, no matter how much he wished there was something.

"As you wish," L had said, and Light almost wanted to shout that for L to open his eyes again was what he wished, but such statements were childish and he didn't feel any desire to lower himself further in front of these people he would be working with for a long time.

Even though he had needed L gone, his feelings for the one who had made him feel like a human again were not something that could be swept aside, even though it had seemed that way mere minutes ago when L's death was something he had only thought about in plans for the new world.

Voices drifted nearer from the other side of the room near the elevator, and then his father was back, with Matsuda, Aizawa, and four paramedics. Two of the latter accompanied Aizawa back to where Mogi was with Watari. The remaining two left his Dad's side and gently pushed Matsuda out of the way and came straight to where Light was still kneeling by the desk, holding L protectively.

"Hey," one paramedic said softly, placing a gentle hand on Light's shoulder, as he was still holding L as though the detective was a sleeping child. "You're going to have to let your friend go, okay? We need to check him over."

Light was about to point out such efforts were pointless, but then he paused, unsure if he was being compliant to avoid suspicion or because he was delusional hopeful something could be done. He loosened his grip, and his Dad pulled him away while the paramedic took L from his arms.

"I want to go," Light said, his tone almost desperate. "I want to go with him—"

"No," his Dad interrupted, "You should stay here with the rest of the task force until I return." The fact that he hadn't mentioned L returning with him was painfully noticeable and Light flinched visibly from it. "Please, Light, just stay here with Matsuda. Maybe lay down. I'll be back soon, and you're too young to be seeing something like this."

Soichiro left, entering the elevator with a couple of the paramedics while others went up the stairs to find Watari. The elevator had had such a pleasant sound that was so grossly inappropriate for the situation. Light stood shakily in the middle of the floor, suddenly looking hopelessly alone, doe-eyed and speechless.

Eventually, his gaze slid to the floor where he noticed L's teaspoon, right where it had landed after falling from his fingers. He turned away quickly, not wanting to think about that as the image of L falling off his chair replayed in his mind. It was because of this that he would never look at what L had been consuming with that spoon—and if he had, he would have realized something significant.

"Light…" Matsuda took his wrist and brought him over to the sofas across the other side of the room. "Come and sit down before you collapse…"

Light sank onto the cushions, gazing at the ceiling intently, not wanting to look anywhere else but the generic roofing and see a room he had spent so long with L in. The last thing he needed was to get flashbacks to drive home his betrayal of the one he loved.

What was the ceiling made of? Metal? Tile? No, that wouldn't make much sense, so judging by the look of it, it was probably some type of metal. Perhaps aluminum or steel.

He was brought from his desperate attempt at distraction by Matsuda standing up without warning, and it caused Light to jump a little bit in startle,

"I'm making coffee," Matsuda announced loudly to everyone, probably in hopes of distracting them or perhaps just himself, "Do you guys want some?"

Aizawa sighed answered in the confirmation for himself and Mogi as they crossed to the sofas and sat on one opposite Light, so Matsuda hurried off before coming back quickly, as making coffee was a skill he had masted in the last year this case had been going on. Just the thought of it being a year was jarring to Light, because sometimes it felt like only yesterday L had amazed and horrified him by revealing how quickly he could figure out where Kira was.

"What about Watari?" Matsuda asked, bringing the steaming tray over, "Is he...?"

"Dead," Aizawa said. "They took him in the ambulance, but Mogi and I checked for any sign that he was alive. Nothing."

Mogi gave a silent nod in confirmation as Matsuda put the tray down on the coffee table.

"But, I mean…" He picked up a cup to give to Light, also giving him some cream and sugar if he wanted it. "They might still be able to save them. Or, Ryuzaki, anyway, he… he collapsed after Watari, they might still have time to give him the defibrillator like in the movies… you know… the one that makes them jump up and they always say 'clear' and..." he trailed off, and everyone nodded a bit at the hopeful idea, but nobody had faith that would actually work. If it did work, that opened a whole different can of worms about how the murder notebook worked.

Matsuda noticed that he was still holding the coffee and that Light wasn't even looking at him. The only sign Light had noticed at all was the sugar cubes had been pushed far away by Light's foot. "Light, your coffee…?"

"No, thanks…" Light mumbled, getting up and walking upstairs, "There's something I have to do."

"And what could that possibly be?" Aizawa asked incredulously, and Light turned with a look that managed to simultaneously show apathy and devastation, but at the same time made it clear he was just too tired to shout or scream anymore.

"Who else causes a heart attack? Rem knows something about this, and I swear I will get it out of her." He stormed off, searching around the building.

Light knew he wouldn't find Rem, so he didn't bother actually looking for her. At least L's death had more pros than cons, since he was finally rid of that damn lovesick Shinigami. If Rem had survived killing L, Light wasn't sure he wouldn't fly apart because even though he knew that he was L's killer by proxy, that didn't change the fact Rem had been the one to write the name. Part of the whole point of being Kira was to punish murderers, so there was a satisfaction in knowing Rem had paid for what she'd done. That, and after she threatened to kill him so he would date Misa, he had always struggled with not losing it around her lest she murder him.

He found her remains, or at least what he assumed were her remains since Rem had never specified what exactly Shinigami remains were, in a side room. Part of him wondered why it seemed Shinigami turned into what looked like sand and maybe ash, but decided that was for another day. 

He crouched and plucked her Death Note from it, shaking the weird sand-like-stuff off before slipping it into the back of his jeans, almost like he was a software program just going through the programmed functions, like a bad code that just kept repeating. To fix that code, Light would need to make some changes to it, but right now he just didn't feel motivated to do so.

But something nagged him in the back of his mind, a question he was suddenly craving even more than before to have the answer to, and he slowly pulled out and then opened the notebook to look at the name within, the last name... 

L's name.

He found it quickly, and he wasn't sure whether he let out a laugh or a sob. L Lawliet, that was this bastard's name, "Your name was actually L," he whispered, before putting it back in his jeans, and taking a moment to breathe, not wanting to fall apart in front of these people, "I can't believe your name was actually L." He walked over to the doorway, "Guys! I found something!"

The group came up, and there was discussion about working to avenge L, which was mostly led by Light, who was constantly trying as he spoke to tell himself that he wasn't L's killer. Rem had done it, and Rem was gone now. Because they all knew how much Light had cared for L, nobody on the task force questioned him taking the initiative now and were eager to help.

Light tried to walk down the stairs, but his legs gave out under him, and he had to lean on Matsuda for the most part as he was slowly led to the couch, "Do you want anything, Light?" Matsuda tried, "I can get it. Anything at all."

Light finally looked up, fixing Matsuda with a gaze revealing how exhausted and devastated he was, as though to tell him that the idea anything could _possibly_ make him feel better right now was ludicrous.

"Light, please," Matsuda pleaded, while Mogi and Aizawa looked to each other uncomfortably as though they didn't know what to do.

They all sat there in awkward silence. An unknown amount of time later, once Light had started to nod off from all the emotional drain, the pleasant and yet wholly irritating elevator chime was heard again, and his Dad walked in, silent beside his heavy breathing, and with an air of defeat about him.

"Chief…" Aizawa partially rose from the sofa, resting his hand on the arm of the couch.

Light absently looked over at his father, who said nothing for a moment, stopping before them and giving a quiet sigh as though trying to motivate himself to just say it already, and then the announcement that changed everything and nothing at the same time: "Ryuzaki is... dead."

Something inside Light jarred violently. He knew L was dead, but to hear his father state it and make it actually real and not something that had existed in his mind like a nightmare made his insides writhe.

"No," he tore at his hair, too tired to try acting or even just restraining his emotions anymore, "No, no, that can't be true. It's not funny, Dad!"

"Oh, Light," his Dad came over and helped him up, before quickly pulling him into a hug. "I'm right here."

They stayed in that hug for a moment as Light fought back the tears in his eyes, and he buried his face in the crook of his Dad's neck.

After a few minutes, they broke apart, and Light gave a small nod, rubbing at his pale brown hair as his legs shook under him, and his father had to support him and help him walk out of the building, so he didn't collapse, "Come on, Light, let's go home."  
  
The drive was silent and the elephant in the room was taking up any room for normal father and son conversation. Light just looked out the window at the sky above and how the stars couldn't be seen from here, not that it really mattered. He just wanted to be alone for a while.  
  
Upon getting home, Light hurried upstairs, glad that Misa got to deal with Ryuk tonight, because there would be nothing worse than to hear the damn Shinigami laughing or asking for an apple or complaining that things weren't going to be interesting anymore. He just needed some time alone to get himself together.

"Light, I want to talk to you," his father said from the foot of the stairs, "After what you saw today with Ryuzaki, you're going to need support. Nobody should have to see someone they love..."

"Later," Light snapped with a little more venom than was probably called for, went into his room, slammed the door, tossed his jacket to the floor, and flopped onto his bed, clutching at the pillow—though his eyes were dry, stung as though irritated by smoke. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was irritated by the thin coating of dust that was on his comforter, but that was buried so deep down that his conscious mind barely noticed it.

He looked over to his desk, which remained as rigged as always, so he opened it and put Rem's Death Note within so he didn't have to worry about that for a while.

The image of L falling from his desk flashed through his mind, and Light felt his stomach heave, so he laid back down, closing his eyes.

It hurt far more than he had ever thought it would. The very thought that L was gone forever was already eating at him, threatening to drag every hopeful thought into it and swallow them up eternally.

Though he was the one dealing with the aftermath. With his memories, he had never really thought of himself and Kira as two separate people besides from the roles in society, but whether the transition with his memories wasn't as clean as he thought it had been, or something had changed since he could pinpoint very well the differences between himself and his alter ego. It wasn't Kira stuck wading through the emotions and regret built up around him. Kira just wanted to get back on track now that there was nothing standing in his way. But Light couldn't even begin to think about creating a new world when the only thing he wanted right now was to have L back and wake up from this nightmare… The idea of moving on from him so quickly made him physically ill, and he had to turn on his side.

He had wanted to kill L, his enemy, and the threat to Kira. But he didn't want him dead, because he was so much more than just a rival. It was weird and confusing, and Light just didn't want to think about it for any longer than he had already.

Light buried his face in his arms and began to sob for the first time since he was a young child as he realized this would be the first night in months that he spent well and truly alone.

OoOoO

For the next few weeks bordering on months, Light refused to leave his room at his new apartment, living in the agony of what he'd done. The effect of killing the man that he had loved had far-reaching consequences, and it had been nothing short of a miracle that he was able to force himself to get out of bed and move out.

It got to a point the only reason he consumed anything was Sayu, who always brought him food before and after school, not wanting him to starve. At the same time, his parents left him be, and while he knew they meant well, it was still inadvertently making him feel even more alone than before. 

Misa kept trying to come over, but after she had made an insensitive comment about L, she got kicked out, as Light could not bear to look at her. And she kept saying he needed to sleep more or he wouldn't be fairest anymore, but that was the least of Light's concerns—had L ever cared about that? Ryuk stayed with Misa, and he honestly seemed more interested in Light's grief than anything else.

"I will never love again," he vowed to himself, knowing that no man or woman would make him feel the way L had. He was going to be alone for the rest of his days.

Thankfully, as the weeks and months wore on, his practically crippling grief began to slowly fade. Well, not quite fade, so much as he decided to make sure L's death hadn't been meaningless. He had died so the new world could be created, so it was only natural he make progress creating that paradise, right? It made sense in Light's warped and twisted mind, helped along by the darker side of himself that had never left Light even in his sorrow, but simply quieted down and waited for the emotional storm to pass before getting right back up from where he left off and helped him justify to himself that in a weird way, he was honoring L by creating Kira's world.

Taking on L's role in the team to keep those higher up satisfied that L was still leading the investigation, Light had Misa move into his apartment with him so that he could keep her close and use her eyes. Misa was, of course, delighted to no end by this, thinking it only a step away from being his wife and mother of his children or whatever nonsense she came up with depending on the week. Ryuk came along for the ride, laughing at everything and satisfying his apple addiction.

Of course, L was never truly gone from his mind. He'd caused too many cherished memories, and they'd shared far too much for him to simply be forgotten. He hadn't cried more than a handful of times over this, and only when he was extremely tired, every anniversary of his death or L's birthdays that had passed without him alive were hard to face. On those days, he shut himself in his room and didn't come out for anything or anyone. Sometimes when things became too much to handle, he still wondered if he should have thrown everything away and just stayed with L forever, but those fantasies were only painful and thus pointless to even consider.

When Light had long since changed from a teenager to a young man—twenty-three years old and still holding strong on that title of fairest of them all that the world had given him—he discovered that even if L was gone, the constant headaches were not.

First and foremost, Misa was tired of her current position as his girlfriend. This led to the following conversation as she took advantage of how tired Light was—as she often did when she wanted something from him that he wouldn't agree too if he was awake enough to refuse or notice drugs slipped in his drinks. It was that realization that had happened many times in the last five years that really made him want to kill her half the time, but she was unfortunately too damn useful with her eyes, and her death could thrust all sorts of suspicion on him.

"Light, I've been useful for you for so long, and I think it's time you marry me," Misa said as Light absently picked at his rice. 

Light whispered, "No, it's not." Misa glared, standing up,

"I have just as much power as you! I can kill you for refusing! I've done everything for you, so it's only fair you do something for me."

Light looked up, his expression very deadpan and making it clear he didn't want to be having this conversation, "I killed the man who murdered your parents, I believe that's all I need to do for you. If you would really use the Death Note on me for refusing, kill me then." The only reason he would risk that kind of dare was that he knew Misa well enough that her demands would die down given a little time, and all he had to do was not drink the glass of wine in front of him. 

"I'm not that bad—how could you rather be dead than married to me?" Misa was clearly exasperated, "I am rich and beautiful, and I've been by your side through everything!"

No. L had been there in the beginning, and even when they were enemies, Light had found himself excited and intrigued by the detective.

"Because," Light answered softly, "Marriage involves love, and you of all people should know that until the world is perfect, that is not a pastime at which I excel."

"Love?" Misa asked, "Who mentioned love? You don't have to love me—I told you before that I don't care if you use me! But I love you more than anything, and if you have no plans of love, why is there any reason to not go through with it when I know this? And when you are ruling the world, you are going to need an heir, which I can give to you." 

Light thought about it. Misa admittedly had a point. But still, the idea of being shackled to her for however long she lived—he knew she would kill him if he filed for divorce. This being said, he could tell that her loyalty might waver if he refused, and then she would kill him. So did he really have any choice?

"Then, by all means, let us marry." 

OoOoO

It turned out the mafia wanted the Death Note now. After killing the Director to dispose of the hostage issue, Light was walking home a couple days later, still stressed out about how Misa was going around screaming to the rooftops about her getting engaged—he couldn't even escape it at work! He was already regretting this deeply as he looked up at the sky, flashing back to years ago when he and L had sat together in front of one of the large windows and watched the few stars they could see.

It all happened so fast, him walking down the street and suddenly someone jumped at him, causing him to drop his phone from shock as there was a cloth pressed against his nose and mouth. It was so unexpected that he hadn't had time to brace himself and try to get away, so he quickly succumbed to the drug he accidentally inhaled and slipped from consciousness.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place not long after L "died."

When L woke up from a particularly vivid and petrifying nightmare, it was to the beeping of a heart monitor and the fact he was extremely sore. It took him a minute to remember where he was and why he was here, but eventually, he processed the fact he was in a hospital, and that meant his plan had worked.

And his heart broke a bit, recalling why he had needed to in the first place. That bloodthirsty smirk on his beloved's face, unaware it wasn't a heart attack that had the detective on the brink of death. It was moments like this; he hated how intelligent he was, and wished he hadn't been right.

His eyelids were extremely heavy, but he forced them open nonetheless and saw Aiber and Wedy were sitting bedside with him. 

"Thierry... Merrie..." he rasped, forcing a small smile to catch their attention. Both were shocked but brightened, seeing their co-worker and friend was awake.

"It's good to see you're awake." Aiber said as Wedy went to get the doctor, "The flight took a while, and we weren't sure the carbon would be enough to keep you alive until we got you to the hospital."

L forced himself to sit up, struggling more than was probably dignified, "How long... was I out?" 

"You were comatose for eight days." Aiber replied, "But for the last week, you've been coming in and out of consciousness, not fully aware."

"Alright," L nodded to himself, memories coming back to him as the doctor came in to look him over. The examination was tedious because he needed to talk to his friends, but he supposed he should count his blessings that his plan had worked so well.

Once the doctors were gone, Wedy sighed, "L, were you right about him?" L was silent, looking down at the bedsheets, his heart clenching,

"Yes. I was. What about Watari? Was it the belladonna talking and I was hallucinating or—"

"Watari is dead." Aiber said softly, placing a hand on L's, "I'm so sorry." They had been working together for years; of course, the trio had become close even if the reason behind how it started was a little odd. L had been lying through his teeth about Light being his first friend. And now his eyes widened as he realized his relaxation with Light while in a relationship with him had led him to make a horrible mistake in introducing his friends. 

Had Light ever loved him? Was it really all an act? For the sake of keeping himself calm, he let himself believe Light really had loved him and had forgotten his crimes, but then he reverted back to Kira upon getting the notebook again.

And Light thought he was dead. He had no doubt the Shinigami had been trying to write his name alongside Watari's. It was a good thing he had torn out a page a week before the incident and used a Death Row Inmate to write his name. Misspell it four times, and the target is immune, and L was glad the pronunciation of his name was so much different from the spelling.

But Watari... L felt a painful burning in his eyes. Why Watari?! Why must the Shinigami have been so cruel?! Did she think Watari would be a threat too? 

_"I believe it's time for me to go," L said softly to Watari as his adopted father prepared the ice cream made entirely of belladonna berries. "Am I doing the right thing? Things have been different between Light and me, and I have to know if it's true... but is this what I should do?" He had looked down at the floor, remembering Light's cries at night, traumatized by the confinement and mock execution. In hindsight, L wondered if such trauma had made it even easier to transition into Kira once again._

_"Everything is going to be okay, L," Watari had assured him. "Even if your relationship fears weren't your primary motivation, it does make sense for you to do this as a protection against the Shinigami you know is going to attempt to end your life."_

_"What are you going to do while I'm gone? I don't know when I'll come back."_

_"Send me a message as soon as you can about if Light is Kira or not, and I will keep an eye on him either way and ensure he can't cause any harm until you return."_

_"Thank you, Watari." He stared at the expertly concealed poison. His only worry was Matsuda would eat some, but Matsuda's body mass index would mean he would recognize a problem before he collapsed. And it didn't matter if they realized he had been poisoned or not, because he planned to return as soon as he could._

_Adopted father and son hugged for what they didn't know was the final time. "I'll see you soon, Quillish."_

_"Best of luck, Lawliet."_

That memory of the final time he had spoken to Watari, added onto that horrible smirk on Light's face as he revealed his true colors were the last straw that made L's tight hold over his emotions falter, and he started sobbing.

Aiber and Wedy looked to each other, having never seen L cry before. Then they both awkwardly hugged him. L melted into the embrace and his tears became more hysterical, realizing that the man who had saved him seventeen years ago was gone. And worst of all...

Even knowing Light was a mass murderer and the culprit of Watari's murder if even by proxy...

He still loved that bastard.

It was so easy in theory, but unlike Light apparently, L couldn't throw away everything they had shared together. Those memories of Light's playfully mischievous grin after being offered ice cream in secret even against his father's approval, or that cute giggle after playing a round of chess.

Even if he tried to make himself believe that Light had been innocent when they fell in love, it made his heart hurt, even more, realizing that implied that the one he loved was dead and replaced with a monster.

And if he hadn't been innocent, had that kiss they shared meant absolutely nothing to him?

Regardless, he still found himself in a position where he had all the evidence he needed to prove Light was Kira, and he would be sent to the gallows. But such a thought made him start crying even harder, not wanting any harm to come to Light and yet hating him all the same.

What was this called? A "toxic relationship," right? Well, whatever it was, he still found himself unable to let go. But even if it had been over two weeks for everyone else, it had just happened for him. He would come up with a course of action when he had more time to process this.

"Where—Where will I go?" He asked nobody in particular, his bottom lip quivering as he began hiccuping. This would be the first time since he was a very young child that he would be on his own, and even for a genius, he had no idea what to do.

"You can stay with my family and me." Aiber offered, "We both owe you a lot, so I can help you get back on your feet." 

L sniffed, wiping his eyes, still curling up into the embrace of his friends in an attempt to calm the hurricane of emotions within him.

"Tha-Thank you." He continued to cry for a few more minutes before drifting asleep, with both his friends smiling sadly upon his sleeping form.

OoOoO

The months passed quickly as L tried to get back on his feet and learn the basics of living on his own—which was not helped by his fears of being truly alone. In exchange for a place to stay, he had to babysit Aiber's son, Makoto, from time to time, which was completely fine since Makoto was a good kid, and L had been around enough orphans to know how to handle children.

The killings were starting to increase, and L had no idea what to do still. In truth, he had only been in this for the game anyway, and Light had supposedly won, so he had no moral obligation to jump back in, and he wasn't sure he could confront Light calmly and rationally as would be needed to solve the case.

In all honesty, he was hoping someone on the task force would grow a brain and expose Light themselves so L wouldn't need to be the one with that guilt.

He wanted to log into the files—wait, would that even work since Watari's death... oh well, he could hack—and check what Light was doing, but the self-help books and Wedy's advice said checking in on his ex was detrimental to the moving on process. 

He had to admit, he didn't mind living in France for the time being. It was a beautiful place and had tasty treats. Of all the locations for a vacation, this was a lovely spot. He couldn't go back to Wammy's... not yet. He hadn't set foot in the orphanage itself since A died and B... and what was he supposed to do? Walk up to them and say "hey, I'm alive, but Watari—"

_Oh. Damn._

It was January 10th around sunset that L realized that he had created a message way back when they had first gotten the notebook, and Light had regained his memories, before reading the rules and coming up with a new plan. It had been two months, and that must have been sent to Wammy's by now. He _knew_ he had forgotten something!

Correcting the message was... a pain. Roger didn't believe L was alive, so L had to start telling private information like the true names of his original successors, or the fact B had a psychological issue—which unbeknownst to Roger but knownst to L was a literal superpower. A weird, more like a curse superpower, but technically still fell under that category.

As much as he wished he could turn back the clock and help his former friend, his nightmares, which haunted every sleeping moment, made it agonizingly clear. Such a feat was impossible, leaving him feeling nauseous, even thinking of the fact that while he was alive and a coward hiding in France, too afraid of losing his cool to face the issue at hand, A, B, and Watari were dead. His love was killed as well—if not in body, then in spirit.

He took a sip from a small glass of Amaretto, listening to Roger talk in such a way that said he did not have good news for him. But L was pulled from the call by seeing what was on the news, of a traffic accident, and that gut feeling he had had all day suddenly came crashing down on him as he said he'd need to call Roger back and dialed Aiber.

"Aiber, are you okay!?" L asked, and he heard Aiber sigh on the other side of the line, as L's paranoia about Kira killing the two criminals was getting worse and worse as each day passed—the only reason he had contemplated going back. Still, Aiber and Wedy had told him to focus on himself and his health before all else, and it wasn't like Misa had ever seen their faces, so she couldn't get their real names.

_"I'm okay. Let me guess, you've been getting that gut feeling again."_

"Yeah..." He sighed, "Is Wedy with you?"

_"No, she went to get something. Why?"_

L hung up and dialed Wedy, only to not only get no response but the response from the phone just... wasn't right. The ring was wrong. 

Okay... maybe she was just on the road and not checking her phone. Alright, that was understandable. L would call her again in a few minutes.

After repeatedly calling in the span of a half-hour, L took a deep breath as he pleaded for his gut instinct to be wrong. 

Sadly, as he called the hospital and asked about any Jane Doe's of Wedy's description... there was one. Dead on impact. 

An invisible hand clasped over his mouth, letting out only a tiny choked scream as the phone slipped out of his hand and shattered against the tile floor. An equally ghostly hypodermic of adrenaline pierced his heart, unloading in an instant in a manner that some part of his brain made him fear was Kira's doing. He could feel his ribs heaving as if bound by ropes, straining to inflate his lungs. 

Fears spinning out of control, each one pushing his mind into blackness, making him want nothing more to run but instead crumbling into a heap on the floor. Sounds that were near felt far away, like he was no longer in the body that lay paralyzed on the floor...

OoOoO

Grey and dead. Grey, fuzzy, and numb. It was like trying to watch an old fashioned black and white television screen. L's vision was static, and he could barely make out what was in front of him. But he could undoubtedly sense he was squatting in a chair. That, and the overwhelming feeling that he wasn't alone.

How did he get here? Where even was here?

Looking around in panic didn't provide much help. It only served to make his vision even more blurry as nothing, but grey static surrounded him. It was like he was trapped inside a poorly tuned old television. But when he ceased his panicked movements, his vision began to settle. The outlines of even more chairs started to appear, with tables decorated with dead potted flowers, and, much to his surprise and confusion, what looked like a stack of magazines.

However, L quickly recoiled in horror as the outlines of figures began to appear in a few of the chairs. His whole body froze in fear, desperate to get up and run from these terrifying beings, only for his terror to paralyze him, worried that any sudden movement might alert them to his presence. There were no identifiable features on the figures. Just a dark mass in the recognizable shape of a fellow human being, with their outline fading into a blur.

Fear almost choked him when one of the figures turned its head to look at him. An expressionless face that was nothing but a dark void, and he could sense its eyes watching him, especially as its face morphed into that of B. Then, as quick as he had turned to face him, B turned his head back to stare straight ahead again, casually folding his arms across his chest before crossing one leg over the other.

This caused some of the fear to drain away as L stared at the figure in confusion. It wasn't going to hurt him? It looked like…like…it was just casually sitting there, waiting for something to happen.

Upon that realization, L looked to the rest of the figures in shock. Many characters surrounded him, all appearing to be sitting down and just waiting. Some were slouched while others looked lost in a magazine. Some even seemed to be just as confused as he was, their heads bobbing up and down as if they were trying to shout something, only they had no mouth…no voice. Until eventually, they all started morphing into the faces of the fallen, and nobody could deny Light's beauty outshone them all, even if L felt a mix of love and hate for that face. 

In fact, even when they had faces, the whole room was eerily silent. Not a single sound could be heard.

L's panic rising again, he turned towards the figure sitting next to him and tried to yell something. To beg for some sort of explanation. To ask where he was and what was going on.

Something…something had happened…

Wedy finally spoke, scoffing as she took a cigarette out of her mouth, "You killed us all, you know that, right? We're all here because of you, and Aiber is going to be joining us soon. And it's all your fault."

"I thought things were supposed to change, L," A muttered, "But how are you not sure that pathetic excuse of a caretaker, Roger, is actually changing how he treats the successors?" 

"And you're just hiding," B added on, "What are you so afraid of?"

Light brightened, a smirk on his face now—not nearly as sinister as the one on his face as he believed L to be dying, but still not friendly in the slightest. "I believe he's afraid of me." He stood up, getting in L's face, and then he chuckled darkly, "Did you really think I ever loved someone like you? How could I ever love someone who tormented me and then let the real me die?!" 

And this was where he had awoken.

_"L...!"_

L snapped awake, screaming and jolting upright, a hand on his chest, and Aiber was holding his shoulders as he tried to get his erratic breathing under control. 

"Hey, hey, L, you need to breathe! Deep breaths, follow me." L obeyed, piecing together what happened. 

"Thierry... what happened? I—I remember Wedy..." Aiber just nodded,

"It was a traffic accident." He put two fingers under L's chin, so they made eye contact, "Hey, I've known you long enough to know you think Kira did this, and you're blaming yourself. That may be the case, but these kinds of accidents also happen all the time. And Kira can't get our real names, remember? I don't want you to destroy yourself for what could very well be just an accident." He sighed, "As for what happened, I got a call from Makoto that you collapsed. It's only been a couple hours."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Aiber drinking from a glass of wine, neither of them knowing what to say, having lost a friend they had known for years.

L got up, packing a bag, "Aiber... there's something I need to do."

"What is it?"

He hesitated from where he was changing shirts. What was he supposed to say? Running away from his rampaging emotions and trying to do something productive while simultaneously bottling up those feelings? 

"I got a call last night before... something is going on at the orphanage. The last time someone told me that, a child was dead and another had run off to become a serial killer." Aiber tensed,

"LABB?"

"Yeah."

"Well, do you have a flight?" L nodded, pulling out his phone and calling the private jet. "Are you going to stay at the orphanage, or are you going to be coming back here?"

"We'll see how incompetent Roger has been this time. If I do come back, it's going to be working on a case. The first step to getting back into the game, I suppose." He looked at an image on his phone of himself, Aiber, and Wedy grinning together and getting some ice cream. The last two months had been enjoyable, and his grief came back to hit him like a truck. He squeezed his eyes shut, walking out the door to not allow anyone to see him as vulnerable anymore. 

OoOoO

Getting to the orphanage, L waited at the gate for a moment, flashing back to the first time he had come here, a mere eight years old. Watari had squeezed his hand gently, to tell him it would be alright. Things were so much different now, and he felt an icy hatred hardening his heart, ready to put his feelings behind him and make Light _pay_ for what he had done.

He took deep breaths as the gates opened. No, he couldn't let hate consume him. Acting in a rage was not going to help anyone. He needed to rely on logic, as nobody would listen to him if he was emotional and accusing Light without evidence.

Because... he didn't have evidence. Not even that smirk counted, because he had been until the influence of a hallucinogen—so while he was positive that had been true, the task force who believed firmly in Light's innocence would not listen. They would think it had been a side effect of the belladonna.

Walking inside, he looked around, deciding to stand tall, because he had more power over this place than Roger did, and if that man had screwed up the successor program and blown his second chance, L was shutting down the whole "find an L replacement" idea. Honestly, he had always hated it, having been so young, and the idea of replacements his age being there to step in when he croaked had been the source of many sleepless nights and days without appetite. And after the incident...

He fought back the bile threatening to rise up as he knocked on the door to Roger's office, smiling at the idea of seeing Miheal and Nate again. Those boys meant the world to him—even if last time had made him cautious about caring about his successors. But the two young boys, and Mail, had wormed their way in until they became like family to him. 

"Come in." He heard Roger call, and L stepped inside, making eye contact and making sure to make it clear that as Watari's ward, he was the one in charge here. "Oh, L, it's good to see you're well. I thought you were dead." And that tone made L narrow his charcoal eyes, sensing there was a hidden meaning that something had happened, making Roger wish L was dead, so he didn't need to hear it.

"What happened? I am not a fool, Roger, even if I am prone to moments of forgetfulness." He still wasn't sure if he could blame that moment of scatterbrainedness was a side effect from the poison, or just him being overwhelmed, but he could already tell that no matter the reason, it was going to bite him in the ass. 

Roger sighed, "When I told the boys about the message, Mello was less than pleased." He hesitated, "He wanted to leave the orphanage, and I let him, not knowing Matt would go after him." 

There were a lot of things L had been imagining Roger would say, some of them somewhat hysterical, but that wasn't the point, and he wasn't sure if this was better or worse. He felt his whole body start shaking as he clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms and creating little half-moons.

"You... let him go?" It was just a whisper, all he could get out because a desire to remain calm left him unable to speak any louder. But slowly, any self-control faded away as he walked closer to Roger, grabbing the man's collar, as a small chuckle bubbled up, "You let a fourteen-year-old leave on his own and take Matt with him?"

"He's fifteen now—" Roger tried to interject, but L stopped him, baring his teeth,

"You're fired." He hissed, "Get out."

"You can't fire me!"

"I am the one who the orphanage went to in Quillish's will, so therefore, yes, I _can_ fire you." His glare darkened, "I've wanted to do this since you let my _friends_ fade away. I'm already in a bad mood, so if you're not gone in the next ten minutes, you're not going to like this."

Roger glared, "Are you threatening me, boy?"

"No, I am making a promise to you." He turned a little, painting on a face of pure apathy, "So is Near still here, or have you let him run off and join the mafia?"

"Near's still here. He hasn't left his room in a month." L huffed, muttering to himself as he went up the stairs,

"Damnit, Roger, can you be competent for once?" And now he needed a new manager of the children because Roger was clearly incompetent. Alright, that couldn't be too hard to find. Besides, the maids and nannies did most of the work, but Roger was in control of the more academic aspect, and L had a feeling the kids wouldn't mind having a break for a bit.

He knocked on Nate's door, "Are you in there?" He feared there would be no response, and he would find the young boy either had been missing for a month or was dead.

Thankfully, he heard a tiny "Yes," and when he walked in, Nate was creating patterns with dominos. The white-haired boy didn't look up to see who had come in for a good few moments, but when he did, his eyes widened considerably, "L?"

L shut the door behind him, a small smile on his face, "Hello, Nate." 

Nate got up, walking towards him slowly, touching at his arm and chest as though trying to see he was actually here, so L simply pulled the small boy in for a hug. After a moment, the usually stoic boy broke down, hugging back and quietly crying.

"Roger—He said you were dead."

"I know. It was an error on my part, forgetting to edit that message after I had known a plan of mine was a success. Forgive me." Nate nodded, burying his face in L's shirt, and L sighed, "Nate, do you know where Mello and Matt are?"

Nate stiffened, breaking the hug and wiping his eyes, but now they were both sitting on the wooden floor, "Did Roger tell you?"

"About them leaving? Yes. But I was hoping maybe you would know where they went. I already have an idea where Mello would go but would like some confirmation first." 

Nate shook his head, "No... Mello seems to think we're rivals. He wouldn't have told me anything even if I had asked." This caused L's brow to furrow,

"Why would he possibly think that?"

"Because you didn't choose between us, which one was going to succeed you."

L closed his eyes and shook his head, seeing yet another way this whole successor thing was a stupid idea, and he should have been more forceful with Watari on his refusal of the concept. "I didn't choose between you two for a reason. I wanted you two and Matt to work together. And my position was structured for me and my personality. Both of you would feel suffocated doing things the way I do."

Nate blinked a few times as though this was new information, "Really?"

"Yes, really. So I'm going to find a replacement for Roger, shut down the successor system, and I am going to find Mello and Matt to bring them home." 

Nate brightened a bit, "I still want to help you." L smiled, ruffling Nate's hair as he got an idea.

"If you want to help me, can you do me a big favor?" Nate nodded, and L asked one of the passing maids to bring them some cookies and hot cocoa. And then he explained everything to Nate, about Kira being Light, how he was struggling with his own emotions and lack of evidence, and was now busy on more personal matters and was trying to run away from his feelings.

Nate blinked a few times, putting a finger under his chin, "The task force sounds somewhere between gullible and downright stupid." 

"Absolutely." L agreed, "But they are good people nonetheless, and I can't let my own conflicted feelings prevent me from stopping Kira. Do you think you can collect evidence? You can call me with any questions you have." Nate nodded,

"I can do that... but it might take time. From what I gather, if we could somehow steal the notebook and disprove the thirteen-day rule, it would make things much easier."

"Agreed. However, now that Light knows I had plans to do that, he would likely be prepared to make sure any test I perform that he is aware of ends in failure, meaning me merely returning and retrieving it would achieve nothing."

Nate nodded, playing with a strand of his hair, "Mello would probably have a plan. I will collect as much evidence as I can while you look for him. Hopefully, we can all work together once you explain."

"Yes." He held out his hand to shake, "I am honored to be working with you, Near." Nate took his hand,

"The honor is mine, L."

OoOoO

For the next four months, L transitioned between France and England, to help Nate with the Kira case and handle the issues at Wammy's now that he had all the power, and working on finding Miheal with Aiber, who had a lot of people in California who owed him favors.

California was most likely either where Miheal and Mail were or was where they were headed. L remembered Miheal's fascination with the LABB case, so it stood to reason he would head to Los Angeles or somewhere closeby. Overall, things were going smoothly, and while Nate was struggling to find any evidence, L saw this as perfectly understandable. It had been a year and a half since this case began because Light kept finding ways to disprove the evidence. L had made no progress whatsoever last year in January to early April, so Nate was doing much better than L himself had.

Miheal, unfortunately, could be anywhere since he was a bright kid, and he had Mail with him to hack and get money and probably fake IDs. It was going to take a while, regardless. This was infuriating, but he knew that unless he planned to go to LA in person and wander aimlessly until he found Miheal, he had to be patient. He still couldn't shake the bad feeling that had started rising up but tried to tell himself it was the worry for Miheal and Mail, nothing more.

That is, of course, until he walked in with some dinner for himself and Aiber as they worked and found his friend dead at his desk, and later the doctors said it was from a heart attack. 

Hearing that made L's world crash down around him just a tiny bit more as genuine bloodlust supercharged every nerve in his body, because it really seemed Light was determined to take everything away from him. If that bastard touched Miheal, Mail, or Nate... L knew he would have no remorse in killing the man he had loved.

Then a week later, his anger was released into an anguished scream, punching the wall in his bedroom at Wammy's so hard his knuckles split, and blood oozed down his hands and onto the floor.

How was it even possible, after everything Light had done, that he still loved that man?! It should be impossible, right? _Right_?! And yet here he was. 

What the hell? Light was killing his friends who he had known for far longer: Watari, Wedy, Aiber, probably Naomi... L couldn't even complete the list before sobbing next to his bed, because what kind of sick twisted monster could still love the man who was tearing apart his world?!

In an attempt to justify this phenomenon, he tried to tell himself he only loved Light, the kind and innocent one who had caught Higuchi with him, but he still yearned to see Kira dead. In his mind, he tried to separate the two entities, pretend they were different people, but that trick never worked for long.

Then he stood up. What was he doing wallowing over his complicated love life? No more playing games, this was personal now, and L vowed that no matter how long it took, he was going to make sure Kira was gone for good.

First things first, he needed to find Miheal. 

And this was why L donned new attire—new person, new outfit—tossed on his black trench coat over a dark grey shirt and dark navy jeans, and put on some combat boots as he took off in the dead of night, calling his private jet to get ready for a flight to California. 

He was done ignoring who he was. Damnit, he was L Lawliet, the greatest detective in the world, and it was about time he started acting like it.

And if this case was much more personal than he could have ever imagined, nobody had to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So if this was the first 6 months of L's adventures, what was he doing for the next 4 1/2 years? Stay tuned to find out!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was going to be longer, but I felt that what was originally going to be one super long chapter actually deserves to be two shorter chapters. So sorry for those who like the longer chapters, those will return, but this one just from a structuring standpoint, fit better in its own shorter chapter.

Light strained against the zip-ties forcing his wrists behind his back, blood running over the translucent plastic, red on white. From the cold metal beneath his body, the shifting motions from right to left, and the revving of the engine, he knew he was in transit and had been for some time. Surely someone was looking for him by now, if he was right and it had been at least a couple hours. That said, he didn't know how long he had been unconscious, so he took an estimate of three hours.

If he could get this blindfold off, he might be able to figure out where he was. However, he didn't need his sight to figure that out, even if it would be nice. It was cold in here, and he was wrapped in a blanket, which told him he was in cargo. Probably in the pet section, since it wasn't so cold that he couldn't handle it. Thankfully, there didn't seem to be any animals here to serve as annoyances.

There wasn't much he could do about this, except for force himself into the sitting position and shake his head around in an attempt to get the blindfold off.

Just for the hell of it, he decided to get off the duct tape over his mouth. This, while disgusting, was not hard to do, licking at it and moving around his mouth until it fell off. 

He had a pounding headache from the drug, but the fact he had been kidnapped allowed him to get past that and try to figure out where he was headed in what was clearly a plane. 

After a while, he came to realize that the chances of doing anything successfully were slim. He was still tied up, trapped in the bottom of a plane headed to who knows where, probably like the new ransom for the task force's Death Note, which he already knew his father was going to hand over in exchange for him.

Now, seeing as he was the hostage, there was a sense of relief that surely he was going to be rescued soon. But on the other hand, the idea of the Death Note with the mafia was sickening. He supposed he could come up with a plan to handle this at a later date. 

As much as he hated it, there really wasn't much he could do besides waiting for someone to come get him. Calling for help now wouldn't achieve anything. 

He didn't know how long he stayed down there, still struggling against the restraints on his hands. It was a long time, he supposed, but then again, his mind was known for being much faster than actual time, so whether it had been a couple hours or days, he didn't know. It didn't help that he was used to skipping meals for days on end, so he really did not have a way to tell since he didn't feel any hunger.

He did know that since his Death Note was still in Japan, Ryuk was not here. He knew that his Shinigami wouldn't have helped him escape anyway, and even considering asking him to kill these kidnappers would be a death sentence for Light since that would be going against their agreement nearly six years ago.

By the time the plane did land, Light was drained from sheer boredom and apprehension. He was calm, knowing his father well enough to be aware that this hostage negotiation would be over soon, but there was still a reasonable amount of discomfort in being kidnapped.

He felt someone pull him by the collar of his shirt, "You awake?"

"Hai," Light muttered on instinct, even though his captor was speaking English. This only served to anger the man, who seemed young by the sound of his voice,

"I know you speak English, Kira." Light's eyes widened under the blindfold that his captor had tightened, and now he knew why. Hold on, this wasn't a negotiation for the NPA's notebook? _Oh no, what if they try to trade the Death Note for Kira to my father, and then the task force will know everything! How would the mafia even know that I'm Kira?!_

He wondered, was this actually the mafia, but then he snapped out of his terror spell, knowing he had to keep a calm facade if he wanted to find out what was going on.

"Kira?" He asked, taking note of the temperature as he was being forced to walk outside. Where were they...? It was a little warmer than in Japan, but not by much. "What brought you to that idea?"

"Don't play dumb!" The young man snapped, dragging Light along still, and when Light tried to pull back, he felt someone pick him up and toss him over their shoulder. 

Light had so many knots in his stomach that he feared he was about to throw up, which was the last thing he wanted to do as a captive. He knew why the mafia would want Kira gone, but how had they managed to find out anything? And if they knew about the Death Note, would mentioning the 13-day rule save him from this?

He knew why he had the blindfold on, and to ask would just make him look like an idiot, so he stayed silent until he had been forced into a chair. He knew he wouldn't stand a chance if he bothered to even try running, from the feeling of hands on him alone.

Light tried to wrack his pulsing brain for some information, which could be useful. From what he remembered learning, the mafia only cared about money, so unless they were doing something extremely shady, why would they care if they had Kira? Yes, they also had the second L and leader of the task force, which would work as a hostage, but why would they take the time to find out he was Kira and address him by that title instead of merely killing him? This didn't make sense.

He could also tell this young man who had been doing the talking was of some form of power in the mafia. From what he recalled, this probably meant this person was the underboss, not the actual boss. The underboss was in charge of all of the capos and is usually first in line to become acting boss if the boss is imprisoned or dies. His role was to look after the day-to-day affairs and helps settle any disputes that did not need to be escalated to the boss.

He winced at the pain in his head but decided that he should assume this individual was the mafia underboss and not the actual boss. He needed to get a feel for what he was dealing with. 

"I'm not Kira," he said again, "You've got it all wrong. Even if I was, what do you want from me? Who even are you?!"

Someone slapped him—honest to god, slapped him. He sneered in the direction he could tell this person was.

"Don't play dumb with me, I know who you are! As for me, you can call me Mello." Not a real name—well, Light supposed it could be, given L's real name, he couldn't really say for sure, but he doubted anybody here would give their real name. "As for what I want with you, you are just a hostage to be sold off after we get the notebook from your father." 

"My father will never give you the notebook," he didn't even pretend he didn't know what they were referring to. After all, he was part of the Kira task force. It would be suspicious for him to deny it. 

Mello chuckled, "Actually, with the pictures of you that we sent, I am sure he is panicking and on his way now. But while we wait for two days, there are some things I want to ask you. I believe you have a second and maybe even a third notebook hidden that you use personally." Light forcefully hid the tenseness he felt, and nausea churning in his stomach. How did this person know? And he had mentioned planning to sell him off... to who? He knew about human trafficking, and he also knew that if that were his fate, Mello would probably kill his father! 

"Interesting theory about Kira," he forced out, not planning to reveal his identity to these criminals who had no evidence. Besides, the 13-day rule would protect him, "But you're wrong. There is even a rule in the Death Note specifying that if the user fails to write names for thirteen days, they will die. I was in confinement for fifty-three days at one point, and yet I am still alive." 

But this didn't deter Mello as Light had hoped it would, "I've already thought of that, and I'm sure if anyone can think of a loophole, it would be you." Wait, hold on, how did this Mello character already know about this rule? He could be putting up a facade, but something didn't feel right about that, either.

Another thing he noticed was there was no indication he was going to be tortured for information. Perhaps it was part of trying to get the notebook, but he looked up, "I do not know of any loophole, nor am I Kira. The idea of a loophole will be helpful towards the investigation, but I cannot help you. You mention selling me off? Who would pay for some poor soul you claim is Kira, but isn't?"

There were murmurs, and Mello's tone turned patronizing, "Do you not care for your life at all?"

"I haven't cared for a long time," Light deadpanned, "It's this or deal with my insufferable fiancé. Besides, I can already tell by the fact none of you have suggested torturing me for information means that whoever plans to buy me has most likely asked for me unharmed."

More murmurs, some of which along the lines of "he's pretty good," and Light gave a condescending smile, even though it didn't match with being tied up and blindfolded.

But then Mello silenced it, "Actually," he corrected, "He only asked for you to be alive. So if you truly don't care, I guess I can have some fun." Light tensed when he felt breath along his ear, "But not now, I do have arrangements for the notebook to complete, after all. Jose, lock him up, and I'll call Rue that his little package has arrived."

Rue? He didn't get to ask as he was dragged and thrown into a small room he assumed was a closet. Adrenaline and his anger that these filthy vermin would dare even touch a God was overpowered by fear, confusion, and shame. Ah, he could hear L's laughter right now, being kidnapped and sold by the mafia.

L's face appeared in his mind without permission, where it had stayed buried, and he wished it would just remain. Perhaps it was the fact he was being held now in a similar circumstance to the confinement he had mentioned earlier. He chuckled a little even though tears spilled down his cheeks. To think, after going through that, it just took getting to know each other without his memories, he had been ready to marry that man. 

Here was the downside to being left to his thoughts when he couldn't zone out—he had spent five years going through the motions and taking the occasional anti-depressant, keeping himself busy every hour, so he didn't need to think. But being left in this closet with nothing but fear and memories led to regret like no other, thinking about that final heartbroken look L had given him before closing his eyes forever.

What would life have been if he had given up Kira? Could he really have been happy? He knew that if someone was going to buy him, there was a very high chance his title as the most beautiful person in the world was going to come into play, especially if this led to being trafficked.

Could he really have been with L? Not trapped in a loveless engagement as the price for godhood? Could things have been different? 

He could daydream all he wanted of someone coming to save him, and he knew full well that his father would try. Perhaps his father could come to save the day, and everything could be okay again, but Light wasn't even sure it could be. It had stopped being okay when he had lost the first and last person who had loved him for more than his looks.

And maybe that was what he was afraid of. Not of the situation at hand—even if that wasn't comforting or pleasant—but the idea of returning home, where nothing had changed, and remaining alone in a crowded room forever.

He tried to snap out of it. There was no point in running off into the land of what might have been, for it just led to heartbreak and regret every time reality set back in. That said, he didn't really have anything better to do, as panicking and degrading himself from that kind of fear was just a blow to his pride. The better course of action was to think about L.

Thinking back on the good times, tears spilled down his cheeks, but he kept his sobs quiet, remembering how radiant L's smile way when he was doing so genuinely, and that bright red apple blush when he got flustered. Or how he laughed whenever Light got frustrated during chess, saying he would sometimes puff his cheeks out a little when thinking in such a situation. 

Or those nights, sitting on the floor, staring out at the city and the faint stars through their massive window, eating some cookies and drinking hot chocolate, talking about books, or sometimes L would read some of the stories he had loved. Light would fall asleep listening to his words, which sent his mind to another world of magic and wonder.

It was just the two of them against the world, and in that time, with a best friend and a lover as one and the same, everything had been perfect. 

Why hadn't he seen then that he couldn't have a truly perfect world for himself unless L was in it? He knew he would do anything to fix the world, it needed to be done, and he was the only one who could. Ryuk had been right, the one who owns the Death Note can never be happy. It was just a sacrifice he had had to make, so nobody else had to suffer like he did, that choice he had made but regretted with all of his heart.

Part of his brain told him that he should stop wallowing and get up and do something about his situation if he didn't like it. It was better to die trying to escape than live with whatever the mafia had planned for him—Misa could always act as Kira. These criminals had no proof he was Kira, and even if they did, what self-respecting authority figure would listen to them?

That was the rational thing to do, so he struggled against his restraints, digging deeper into his wrists, and he knew from experience that if he risked any more, it might become too dangerous. He could actually start losing a dangerous amount of blood. The goal here was still to get out of this alive and unmolested. 

After a couple moments of struggle, he grew tired but not physically tired. He was emotionally drained, done, he didn't care anymore. It was frightening, even to him, how little he found himself caring in this situation. He'd see how things played out and think of something then, but for now, he decided to sleep, ignoring the throbbing from his cheek or the pain in his shoulders and wrists or the pounding in his head, slipping into the realm of slumber, where more images of L were there to bittersweetly greet him.


	4. Chapter 4

Rod Ross was waiting for him.

Indeed, he had a whole set up in his office, and two wine goblets were out on the table. In the center was a bottle of wine and, beside it, some cheese and some apples. Light, however, lay helpless next to the desk, gagged and tied and blindfolded. Rod Ross held his long knife against his throat.

The twenty-three-year-old Light, L noted, somehow managed to far surpass the eighteen-year-old mass killer. However, whether this was just his response to seeing the fair young man again after five years and having a memory refresher or if Light had actually become more beautiful, he didn't know. His hair, which was once the color of autumn, was still the color of autumn, except that before, he had tended it himself, whereas now L supposed Misa had finally gotten her wish of managing things for him. His skin provided much more of a glow. Little things L noticed, and then he fought back a sneer, because underneath that stunning skin lay a monster even uglier than L's own—which was saying something.

"Welcome, Rue." Rod Ross called to L, who stood in the doorway.

L stopped and surveyed the situation, edging just a half-step closer to the mafia boss's long knife, holding up the briefcase with the money inside.

With a smile, the Mafia Boss relaxed the knife, "I see you've brought what you promised. But you didn't explain his beauty nearly to justice." He suddenly pushed the knife harder against Light's throat. It was about to bring blood. 

L looked to Light, noticing he seemed unusually calm about the situation, or perhaps he was petrified, it was hard to tell which without seeing his cinnamon eyes. "I will admit that, as a ransom item, he has value—nothing more. And while he may be beautiful, his personality, from what I hear, renders that null and void."

"That may be true, but I know plenty of people who would be able to break that personality into nonexistence and pay me double." A little choked noise came from Light at that, and L glared, before getting an idea, 

"You consider yourself a good businessman, all things considered, and the money is all you're after." L crossed his arms, "If I give in once and give more money, you will continue to push that price, and quite frankly, I offered to pay exactly how much he is worth, which is a considerable amount as is." He kept stressing the amount of money because he could tell from Light's micro-expressions that it was starting to really scare him. 

"So, do we have a deal?" Rod Ross asked, "An extra million for him."

That would barely dent his bank accounts, but he still found himself not wanting to pay this much for his enemy. But he got an idea,

"I challenge you to a battle of wits." 

Rod Ross had to smile. "For Kira?"

"You read my mind."

"To death?"

"Correct again."

There was a pause, "And what do I have to gain if you're dead?"

"You can take the money in this briefcase _and_ sell Kira off to someone else."

"Well then, I accept," Rod Ross replied as though he knew he was going to win, "Begin the battle."

"Pour the wine," L ordered, and Rod Ross filled the two goblets with deep-red liquid.

L pulled from his dark clothing, making sure he still had gloves on just in case and opened a small packet "Do you know what this is?"

"I would assume it's poison."

"Correct. This is cyanide—one of the deadliest poisons known to man. I don't suppose you'd hand me the goblets," L said.

Rod Ross shook his head. "Take them yourself. My knife does not leave his throat." L reached down for the goblets. He took them and turned away. Rod Ross cackled aloud in anticipation.

L busied himself for a long moment. Then he turned again with a goblet in each hand. Very carefully, he put the cup in his right hand in front of Rod Ross and set the goblet in his left hand across from the Mafia Boss. He sat down in front of the left-hand goblet and dropped the empty cyanide packet by the cheese.

"Your guess," he said. "Where is the poison? The battle of wits has begun. It ends when you decide, and we drink the wine and find out who is right and who is dead. We both drink, need I add, and swallow, naturally, at precisely the same time."

There was silence for a long moment, and L found himself getting bored, "Would you rather I pick for you?"

"Absolutely not." He then looked up, "What is it, Mello?" 

L fought back a smirk, knowing what was happening, and he turned, seeing nothing just as expected, and he could hear the goblets being switched. He turned back. "I don't see anything."

"Oh, well, I could have sworn I saw Mello, no matter." The Mafia Boss began to laugh, and L decided to play dumb, 

"I don't understand what's so funny," 

"Tell you in a minute," the Mafia Boss replied. "But first, let's drink." And he picked up his own wine goblet. L picked up the one in front of him.

They raised their glasses to their lips, but L only raised it at just the right angle that the liquid wouldn't go near his lips or mouth, so he did not drink, and the thing he swallowed was his own saliva.

"You guessed wrong," L replied smugly, 

"You only think I guessed wrong," Rod Ross' laughter ringing louder. "I switched glasses when your back was turned."

There was nothing for L to say, checking his watch, "Well, we have an estimate of two minutes before the poison takes effect. What do you plan to do with Light? Sex trafficking? Or maybe hand him over to the nearest corrupt government?"

"It all depends on who would pay me more." 

"And if you happened to die, Mello, as your underboss, would become the boss, correct?"

"Correct, but I don't see why that would concern you."

He was quite cheery until the cyanide took effect.

L stepped quickly over the dying man, then roughly ripped the blindfold from Kira's eyes.

...

"I heard everything that hap—" Light began, and then he said, "Oh," because he had never been next to a dead or dying man before him. "You killed him," he whispered finally.

"I let him die laughing," the man, Rue apparently, replied, adjusting the black mask he had on, "Pray I do as much for you." He lifted him, untied his bonds, put him on his feet, and started to pull him along.

 _This can't actually be happening,_ Light thought, feeling himself detach a bit from reality, so he had to force himself back into it as he saw Rue toss a briefcase to Mello and explain the situation. And Mello was a lot smaller than Light had expected, but he decided not to say anything on the matter as he was dragged away, with the blonde boy somehow sneering and smirking at the same time at him.

"Please," Light said. "Give me a moment to gather myself." Rue released his grip.

Light rubbed his wrists, stopped, and massaged his ankles. He took a final look back at the undoubtedly dead Mafia Boss. "To think," he murmured, "all that time, it was your poisoned cup."

"They were both poisoned," Rue corrected, and Light frowned,

"Didn't you both drink?" Rue suddenly had a playful grin,

"I lied." 

Light looked at him. He was terrifying, masked and hooded and dangerous; his voice was strained, rough. "Who are you?" Light asked.

"I am no one to be trifled with," Rue replied. "That is all you ever need to know." And with that, he yanked him upright. "You've had your moment." Again he pulled him after him, and this time he could do nothing but follow as he was brought into the desert above ground. The moonlight was very bright, and there were rocks everywhere, and to Light, it all looked dead. He had just spent somewhere between several hours and days with men who were openly planning to sell him. Who was the horrid hooded figure to strike fear in him so? What could be worse than dying? "I will pay you a great deal of money to release me," he managed to say.

Rue glanced at him curiously, "You are rich, then?"

"I will be," Light cringed as he thought about his engagement. "Whatever you want for ransom, I promise I'll get it for you if you let me go."

Rue just laughed.

"I was not speaking in jest."

"You promise? _You?_ I should release you on your promise? What is that worth? The vow of Kira? Oh, that is very funny. Spoken in jest or not." They proceeded along the open space. Rue stopped then. A million stars were fighting for prominence, and for a moment, he seemed to be intent on nothing less than studying them all, as Light watched his eyes flick from constellation to constellation behind his mask.

With no warning, he spun off the path, heading into wild terrain, pulling him behind him.

Light stumbled; Rue pulled him to his feet; again, he fell; again, he righted him.

"I can't move this quickly."

"You can! And you will! Or you will suffer greatly. Do you think I could make you suffer greatly?"

Light nodded.

"Then, run!" Rue cried, and he broke into a run himself, flying across rocks in the moonlight, pulling Light behind him.

Light did his best to keep up. He was frightened as to what Rue would do to him, so he dared not fall again as he looked around and realized that while the new Mafia Boss might be okay with what had happened, the rest of the men were likely not pleased over the death of their leader. That must be what had Rue running, but a small part of him hoped that it was his father coming to rescue him.

After five minutes, Rue stopped dead. "Catch your breath," he commanded.

Light nodded, gasped in air, tried to quiet his pounding heart. But then they were off again, with no warning, dashing across the terrain, heading...

"Where... are you taking me?" Light gasped when Rue again gave him a chance to rest.

"Surely, even someone as arrogant as you cannot expect me to give an answer."

"It does not matter if you tell or not. They will find you."

"They?"

"The Kira task force, my allies, the greatest officers in the NPA." Alright, maybe he was stretching the truth a little—actually, he wasn't, and that thought scared him more than it would usually have, because if these fools were the best, then Light's own chances of rescue were not good. 

Rue, however, seemed to have interpreted this differently, "You have confidence that your dearest love, the second Kira, will save you, do you not? Believe me, I can tell your faith in this task force you claim to care about so, is actually just a lie, and I have no doubt you plan to have them all killed when it benefits you most."

"I never said the second Kira was my dearest love," Light snapped, "But yes, the task force will save me—that I know."

Rue seemed puzzled, then an odd little grin appeared on his face, "You admit you do not love your wife-to-be? Fancy. An honest man and yet a lying monster all the same. You're a rare specimen, your lordship."

"She and I have never from the beginning lied to each other. She knows I do not love her."

"Are not capable of love is what you mean."

"I'm very capable of love," Light corrected stiffly, thinking back on L.

"Hold your tongue, I think."

Light glared, stalking up to him, noticing they were the same height, "I have loved more deeply than a psycho like you can ever dream." 

Rue slapped him, and Light found himself tired of getting hit.

"That is the penalty for lying, Kira. Where I come from, when a person lies, he is reprimanded."

"Yet you lied about drinking from the goblet. And I did speak the truth, I did—" Light saw Rue's hand rise a second time, so he stopped quickly, falling dead silent.

Then they began to run again.

They did not speak for hours. They just ran, and then, as if he could guess when Light was spent, the man would stop, release his hand. He would try to catch his breath for the next dash he was sure would come. Without a sound, he would grab him, and off they would go.

It was close to dawn when they first saw the plane above.

They were running along the edge of a towering ravine at this point, and Light was seconds away from collapsing. When they stopped, Light sank down to rest. Rue stood silently over him. "I have known you are Kira for a long time, longer than anyone. So with all I know and all the evidence I have which for all you know I could have sent to the task force headquarters, do you think anyone is going to save you?"

"You can never escape," Light said. "If you release me, I promise that you will come to no harm."

"You are much too generous; I could never accept such an offer."

"I offered you your life, that was generous enough."

"Highness!" Rue raised his voice, and his hands were suddenly at Light's throat. "If there is talk of life to be done, let me do it."

"You would not kill me." Light insisted, "You did not buy me to murder me. Otherwise, you would have done nothing regarding the knife to my throat."

"Wise as well as loving," Rue replied sarcastically, "But how do you know I didn't just want to kill you myself?" He jerked him to his feet, and they ran along the edge of the great ravine. It was hundreds of feet deep and filled with rocks and lifting shadows.

"So tell me about Ms. Amane," Rue said after a while as their run slowed to a walk, mostly because Light's legs were shaking so badly that he would collapse if they ran even a little more. "I trust there's much nauseating love talk amidst the murdering of thousands."

"We do not see all that much of each other." Light replied, "Unless she's drugging me for sex."

"Tender couple."

Light could feel the upset coming. "We are always very honest with each other, at least. Not everyone can say as much."

Rue tensed, "May I please tell you something, Kira? You're very cold—"

"I'm not—"

"—very cold and very young, and if you live, I think you'll turn to hoarfrost—"

"Why do you pick me?" Light seethed, "I have come to terms with my life, and that is my affair—I am not cold, but I have decided certain things, it is best for me to ignore emotion. I have not been happy dealing with it—" His heart was a secret garden, and the walls were very high. "I loved once," he said after a moment. "It worked out badly."

"Another dimwitted rich woman? Yes, and she left you for a richer man."

"No. _He_ was brilliant, and it killed him."

Rue paused, "You speak of the true L, do you not? The one I am positive you murdered." He began to pace around Light, "I met him once, but I personally hated him. Someone we both knew described him rather well, now what were her words? Ah yes, she said he was creepy and pathetic," his tone changed in a way as though he was pretending to be someone else, "And so suspicious that if I weren't on leave, I'd move to arrest him the moment I laid eyes on him. If we divided the world into those who would be better off dead and those that wouldn't, there's no doubt in my mind that he'd be the former. Such a complete freak it amazes me he hasn't killed himself." He laughed a bit, and while Light noticed there was very evident pain as he said those words, he brushed it off as the bastard continued talking, now in his normal voice, "So perhaps you were doing the world a service in killing him. Were you sorry? Did you feel pain? Admit that you felt nothing—" 

"How dare you?!" Light shrieked with a rage he had never felt before, tears falling down his face from a mix of exhaustion and all the emotions storming through his mind, "L was the best man I have ever known, and I regret what I had to do _every single day,_ and here you are mocking my grief and the one I love! I _died_ that day!"

Light shoved him with all his strength remaining, and for a moment, Rue teetered at the ravine edge. His arms spun like windmills fighting for balance. They swung and gripped the air, and then he began his slide.

Down went Rue—that bastard who had said such cruel things about L—stumbling and torn and reaching out to stop his descent, but the ravine was too steep, and nothing could be done. Light now wanted to find that other person who had said such things and make sure she suffered as she died. And he watched smugly as the son of a bitch who bought him fell, rolling over rocks, spinning, out of all control.

Light stared at what he had done.

Finally, Rue rested far below him, silent and without motion. "You can die too for all I care," he said, and then he turned away.

Words followed him. Whispered from far, weak and warm and familiar. "As... you... wish..."

Dawn in the desert. Light turned back to the source of the sound and stared down as Rue struggled to remove his mask, and a face Light had long since lost hope he would ever see again stared back at him.

No... this wasn't possible. L was dead, his name written in the Death Note on a page that Light would sometimes stare at for hours on end, whispering that name to himself, to try soaking up his victory but ending up depressing himself to the point of contemplating some less than pleasant things. There was no way he was here now. 

"Oh, my sweet Lawliet," Light whispered, his hands over his mouth, unable to process that his sworn enemy being alive would really screw him over. All that mattered right now was the love of his life had been alive all this time but now lay unmoving at the bottom of a ravine. "What have I done to you now?"

From the bottom of the ravine, there came only silence.

Light hesitated not a moment. Down he went after him, keeping his feet as best he could, and as he began, he thought he heard L crying out to him over and over, but he could not make sense of his words, because inside him now there was the thunder of walls crumbling, and that was noise enough.

Besides, his balance quickly was gone, and the ravine had him. Light fell fast, and he fell hard, but what did that matter?

Down, down, tossed and spinning, crashing, torn, out of control, he rolled and twisted and plunged, cartwheeling toward what was left of his beloved...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Worry not, it will be explained when and how L found Mello, and we have not seen anywhere near the last of him.


	5. Chapter 5

_"You sold my son?!"_ Soichiro roared at the message he was hearing from the kidnapper, even though there was a high chance he could not be heard as he stood alone in the desert before the entrance to an underground hideout. This man had the _audacity_ to tell him that the trade was still on when his son had been bought by someone, and say it as though it was a minor inconvenience and not having sold off one of the most precious beings in Soichiro's life.

Deciding that there was no way in hell he would trade the notebook, he instead looked off to the side. In the desert, it was hard to tell, but he could distinctly notice two things. The first being what seemed to be marks from some kind of vehicle, probably a motorcycle. But the second was scuffs in the ground as though from someone being dragged.

That had to be Light.

He knew Matsuda was acting as L until Light was safe and sound, so he could call Matsuda and explain the situation, so Matsuda could contact N.

He did just that, "Matsuda, contact N. They sold Light off."

 _"What?! I'll call N now!"_ The line went dead, and moments later, Soichiro could hear the sounds of a helicopter and started walking along the path, knowing he would not give up searching until Light was safe and whoever bought him was brought to justice.

...

When Light managed to come back to reality, the first thing he felt was intense pain in his left ankle, and a small whining sound escaped from this throat but was quickly distracted when he saw L was getting his own bearings. He knew that this was terrible for his plans as Kira because if L had found a way to survive having his name written, then surely he was immune, right?

L looked up with the same calculating eyes from all those years ago, and for a moment, Light's mind was completely blank, except for the fact he knew he was weeping somewhat, but whether from pain or from seeing L again, even he didn't know.

"You're alive..."

But the response he got was not one of love like five years ago, rather cold indifference, "I always have a backup plan, Kira-Kun." He got up, stumbling a bit and grabbing his head as though he was dizzy.

He should have expected this, Light realized, and he wondered what was wrong with him to still find himself surprised and more than a little hurt by the rejection. After all, he had been the one to betray L and attempt to kill him.

L walked over and started pulling him up. Light screamed at the sudden weight on his ankle and collapsed back to the ground, causing the former detective to pause and huff his irritation, bending down beside him and lifting Light's pant leg to see his ankle was swelling already, and more pressure was being forced on it by his shoe.

"Great," L muttered sarcastically, "We are in the middle of the desert at the bottom of a ravine, and you broke your ankle going after me after you tried to kill me again."

"Who said those things to you?" Light growled, "Who the hell would say such things?"

He noticed that L's eyes went distant as he suddenly scooped Light into his arms with ease and began carrying him bridal style, "Her name was Naomi Misora, and while we had a pretty rocky start, we ended up becoming friends."

Naomi Misora. Light recognized the name instantly and remembered that moment he had been at his worst mentally, the stress turning him to extreme sadism, taunting her as she walked to her death. Looking back, he had always felt somewhat sick with himself for what he had done there, crossing the line. But now that he heard what she said to L, it didn't matter if they had been friends. He would kill her again with no remorse.

"Did you already kill her?" L asked, "I highly suspect you did."

"I did," Light decided to admit, which caused L to be quiet for a moment,

"I'll add that to the list."

"The list?"

"Of my loved ones that you have murdered," L muttered, looking down at Light, "It is frustrating that you're such a monster trapped in that body. Nobody will believe me as long as you're the most beautiful person in the world."

"Enough about my beauty," Light snapped. "Everybody always talks about how beautiful I am. I've got a mind, L. Just before I started down after you, while I was still up there, I could hear you saying something but the words were indistinct."

"I've forgotten whatever it was."

"You're a better liar than that, L."

"It's not important," L replied, "I am hoping that if we find a way up out of this ravine, Mello will meet up with us,

"Mello?!" Light struggled a bit, "The guy who kidnapped me?!"

"Yes," L replied, "I will have you know, Mello and two others are my successors. All records of their true names are destroyed, as are any photographs, and Misa will never see their faces. For four years, I have been planning this with them. By now, the task force should already be allied with Near to catch Kira. Please know that Near knows full well who you are."

All calm vanished, "Are you going to kill me?"

"....."

"L?" He looked up, his voice shaking, "Are you?"

"I haven't decided what I am going to do with you yet. I am 98% sure Mello would like to have some fun with you, and probably Near too. It's incredible how much mutual detest brought those two together."

"Was that what you were saying when I was running after you?" Light asked, and L sighed,

"What I was trying to get through to you, as a matter of accurate fact, shouting with everything I had left, was: 'Whatever you do, stay up there! Don't come down here! Please!'"

"You didn't want to see me."

"Not particularly. I also just didn't want to see you down here."

"Why not?"

"Because now, we're more or less kind of trapped, and your ankle is either broken or badly sprained. I can't climb out of here and bring you with me without it taking all day. I can get out myself, most likely, without it taking all day, but with the addition of your lovely bulk, it's not about to happen. I'm tired, Light; do you understand tired? I've put in a night is what I'm trying to get through to you."

"I'm not stupid, you know."

"Quit bragging."

"Stop being rude. And why go through all this trouble?" Light asked suddenly, "Using the mafia to kidnap me after five years instead of returning to headquarters and telling them exactly what happened when Rem tried to kill you?"

"Because nobody would believe me. To fake my own death after rendering myself immune to the Death Note, I consumed belladonna hidden in the ice cream I had been eating, and as you likely know, belladonna is a hallucinogen. So while I know that your smirk at me as I lost consciousness was real, nobody else would believe it."

Light glared, "You were faking your death?! What if I hadn't been Kira!" 

"Then, you passed the test, and I'd have returned when I woke up from the coma in France."

"I would have dumped your ass for that stunt!"

"Well, you already did when you tried to kill me and then murdered my close friends who had been caring for me. Even if I do decide to spare your life, don't think it's because I want you back."

"Then, why would you?"

"Because something about being responsible for your death makes me uncomfortable. That's all."

"You killed a man! I thought you said that killing was the worst thing to do!"

"Ah, Kira-Kun," L replied, looking down with a grim smile, "The last five years have taught me that there is so much worse than death."

"L, I..." he paused, "I didn't know they meant so much to you, and Watari was out of my control—"

"But do you regret it?"

"What?"

"Do you regret killing them? Before you learned that they were my close friends, or even if you had known and believed me to be dead." He then scoffed, "You claimed to love me and be together forever, and a week after contemplating marriage, you tried to have me killed. Why would you care about my loved ones?"

"I already told you that I regret what I did every day," Light replied, "I meant it. Every day I wished I hadn't killed you, even if I knew I had to for Kira's world to come to fruition. Life is boring without you."

L didn't say anything and just kept walking until they heard a noise from up above, "L! What are you doing down there?"

They both looked up and saw Mello was standing above with some rope and a motorcycle. Light tensed, seeing the new Mafia Boss, and L nodded to Mello before shouting, "Light shoved me and broke himself! Can you throw down the rope?!"

Mello nodded and tied the rope to a massive cactus and used it to climb down the ravine and to Light and L, "I am glad I brought this rope."

"Why did you bring the rope?" Light asked, and Mello smirked,

"To make sure you don't escape. And I went overboard with the amount." He then maneuvered Light and tied him to L's back, so when L climbed up the rope, Light was dragged along all the way up the ravine, while Mello followed.

It took a few minutes to get all the way up, but the rope made the process significantly faster. The next thing that Light knew, he was being thrown on the motorcycle, crushed between Mello and L, and tied up with two-hundred feet of rope, leaving him unable to do anything besides flailing a bit.

"Where are we going?" He asked, and Mello glared darkly as he gave the two of them helmets—clearly begrudgingly when it came to Light,

"Don't speak unless you're spoken to, Kira." Mello snapped, and L was still strangely quiet as they took off to their new destination.

...

Near and Matt watched from a private laptop and satellite feed, not telling the SPK anything about their true plans. They didn't know that the four great detectives already knew who Kira was, and this kidnapping was a collective mission. They did know Soichiro would be looking for his son, but they could very easily stall him.

"Mel went so overboard," Matt laughed, offering some popcorn to Near as they watched everything that had been happening and was seeing Kira bound in way too much rope. Near played with a strand of his hair,

"Technically, since Kira does not have the notebook, you are correct. But you can never be too careful with someone who almost killed L." He chuckled condescendingly, "Almost."

Matt looked to Near, "So what exactly is your plan with the SPK?" He asked, and Near shrugged,

"There is a Second Kira and three notebooks we need to collect," Near replied, "Amane is headed to LA as we speak, and it's highly likely that with Kira out of the picture, she will call for help, and we can capture them all." He grinned, "It will be interesting."

"Loli, do you know how to smile without seeming super creepy, or is this a stylistic choice?" Near just shrugged.

"That doesn't matter. How about you hack into the task force systems to see what their plan is."

"Alright," Matt got on his own computer and got to work, bouncing his leg as he did so, and then he looked to Near with a small laugh as he saw the footage again and checked where the SPK helicopter, "Mello versus helicopter, who will win?"

"Honestly?" Near said, "Mello."


End file.
